


We'll Be Okay

by Dooka



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Even is sad, M/M, Mentions of suicide attempt, a supportive bean, and Isak is not taking any of that shit, and only in an abstract sort of way, lol it didn't quite work out that way, nothing graphic though, this was supposed to be a short drabble after today's clip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 07:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10894452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dooka/pseuds/Dooka
Summary: In which Even is drowning in his own guilt, Isak is boyfriend goals, and Sana gets some proper friends.ORThe aftermath of Episode 5





	We'll Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skyaes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyaes/gifts).



> Halla, everyone. Okay so I know I should be working on the second part of my Taekook series and stuff, but after seeing the last clip today, I just had so many feelings.
> 
> So yeah, here's my interpretation of the aftermath of that giant mess. I tried to make it happy and shit, but then it became sad? Sorry Even...
> 
> It was also supposed to be a drabble...lol, that's cute, I thought I could start writing and then stop.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Dedicated to my sis, who wanted some Evak at the hospital (but I added my girl Sana cause she needs more love in the SKAM ao3 category, and I have no self control. Sorry not sorry...)

Even hates hospitals.

 

The clinical emptiness of it all, devoid of all feelings and full of death and pain and sickness.

 

Devoid of all life.

 

It reminds him of a time when he felt so detached from the world. When he felt so low in the pit of darkness that still sits in his gut, that he thought he’d never manage to escape; when the world was ending and all he wanted to do was not be a part of it anymore.

 

It was easy then, to think about how much easier it would be on everyone if he was just gone. Unable to burden his parents with the weight of his mental illness. Unable to watch Sonja twist into someone unrecognizable because she felt too much of a responsibility towards him; to take care of him and monitor him constantly. Unable to screw up the one good thing he had left in his life, his friends.

 

(He remembers waking up in the hospital later; disoriented, with his parents hovering around him and Sonja passed out in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair next to the bed, bags under all their eyes like they hadn’t slept in years.

 

He remembers his normally bright mother, holding back tears and unable to touch him, instead simply hovering around him, her usually bright personality dulled.

 

He remembers his father; silent, stoic and worried, not knowing what to say and so not saying anything.

 

He remembers Sonja, treating him so, so _delicately_ , as if a strong breeze would knock him off the edge.

 

He _hates_ it.

 

But he also knows that he deserves it too. For letting it get so far, for allowing himself to hurt them again, like he hurts everyone around him.

 

He’s a ticking time-bomb and he knows it, but they don’t say anything, their own guilt and demons weighing them down, and so he doesn’t say anything either.

 

So when his mother decides a transfer is the answer, he doesn’t argue.

 

He’s glad he didn’t.)

 

The guilt and the self-loathing never really leave him. It weighs on his back like a thousand mountains stacked on top of each other, pressing between the spaces in his ribs and forcing his heart and lungs into his gut; into the pit of darkness that only grows the more the weight crushes him.

 

And now Isak is here, the once crimson blood that decorated his face now rust coloured and dark on his face like a crude imitation of freckles, and the weight of the guilt that usually lightens around Isak slams into his chest with a vengeance.

 

He never meant for Isak to pay for his own sins. He’d _never_ meant for any of this to happen.

 

He knows that he’s made things hard on Isak lately, what with his silence regarding the true events surrounding his transfer, and he’s been a saint about it.

 

He never asks for more than he knows Even can give, letting him have his space, and although he knows that Isak is never satisfied with the little bits he _does_ give away (“It was bad,” he whispers into Isak’s fluffy curls, because he knows he can’t look him in the face and hint at this part of him. “I was in a very bad place.”), he also knows that when he tells him he _can’t_ that Isak will wait for him to be ready.

 

(He wonders if he will ever really be ready to reveal that part of himself, the part of himself that is monstrous and large, and drives away everyone and everything that matters to him.)

 

“Are you okay?” asks Isak as he walks back over.

 

“You?” replies Even with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I’m fine,” smiles Isak “My nose isn’t even broken.”

 

“That’s good.” says Even.

 

“Where’re the guys?” asks Isak, glancing around.

 

“They left after we heard you were going to live,” says Even, and his smile feels a little more tremulous.

 

“Let’s go home.” says Isak, studying his expression with wide doe eyes.

 

He smiles warmly, and he is the most beautiful thing that Even has ever seen in his life, despite the flecks of burgundy that still dot his face.

 

“Yeah.” says Even.

 

He’s more than ready to get out of here.

 

...

 

Isak washes his face in the sink, wincing when his hands brush his stinging nose or his bruising eye just a little too hard.

 

Even hovers uncertainly in the doorway, an ice pack in hand.

 

“Thanks,” says Isak as he wanders to the couch tiredly, curling up on the end and looking back at Even expectantly.

 

Even feels awkward, but sits and wraps his arms around his boyfriend, reveling in the feeling of him in his arms once again. Even now, months after they’d gotten together, Even still feels his breath leave him everytime Isak is near. It’s a heady feeling, and one he takes comfort in. More so tonight, when his head is roiling with angry thoughts that won’t leave him alone, thoughts that usually don’t push quite so close to the surface.

 

“You okay?” asks Isak after a moment of basking in each others presence.

 

“Hey, that’s my line.” says Even weakly, the oneliner falling a little flat.

 

“It’s okay if you’re not okay.” says Isak simply.

 

“I’m sorry,” says Even, in lieu of a response, because he knows if he goes there, he won’t be able to recover.

 

“For what?” asks Isak.

 

“This is my fault,” says Even as he places gentle kisses around the injured areas of Isak’s face; light brushes, gentle and barely grazing his skin.

 

“No,” says Isak lowly, eyes slipping shut at Even’s ministrations, scrunching up his face cutely when they tickle him. “It’s not.”

 

“I-” his voice breaks and damn it all if he cries here after all he’s done to avoid drudging this all up again.

 

Isak just pulls him close and lets him bury his face in the crook of his neck. If he notices the wetness of his shirt, he doesn’t comment.

 

“I know it was bad, and that you can’t talk about it, but I’m here okay? I’ll always be here. You can’t get rid of me that easily, I’m stubborn as a mule. Just ask Eskild.” Isak says after a moment with a shaky laugh.

 

Even pulls back slightly to look Isak in the eyes, knocking their foreheads together.

 

“Okay.” he says quietly.

 

“And I know you think I’d hate you for it.” continues Isak softly “But only I can feel what I feel. You know that.”

 

“Yeah.” replies Even

 

“Okay, enough sappy talk. Let’s watch a movie.” says Isak, suddenly looking embarrassed, a pink flush appearing high on his cheeks.

 

Even knows he means it, though, just like he always means everything he says. After everything, if there’s one thing he’s learned about Isak, it’s that he may have trouble with words sometimes, and he may struggle to communicate the sheer _depth_ of what he feels, but when it comes to feelings, he’s _unfailingly_ honest and straightforward.

 

Or at least, he is with _him_.

 

Even leans up and presses a kiss to Isak’s cheek, suddenly feeling a little lighter than he had earlier.

 

“Thanks,” he whispers.

 

...

 

It’s not a long while later that someone knocks on the door.

 

Exchanging confused glances, Even stands, Isak hot on his heels as they open the door.

 

“Sana.” says Even, surprise clear in his tone.

 

“Halla.” she says softly, her hands twisting in anxiety. She looks pale and confused and more than a little out of it, shivering slightly from the cool night air. “May I come in?”

 

“Yeah,” says Even, snapping out of his shock and backing away from the door to admit her.

 

Isak silently leads Sana into the sitting room, the television still playing _Pretty Woman_ in the background.

 

She winces once she catches sight of Isak’s face, already darkening with bruises.

 

“I’m sorry.” she blurts “I don’t really know what happened earlier, but I’m sorry about my brother. I shouldn’t have invited him and his friends.”

 

Her voice gets uncharacteristically soft near then end, as if she feels as small as she sounds.

 

Even’s heart hurts.

 

“Sana,” says Isak “I don’t blame him, it’s okay. Really.”

 

“Are you okay?” asks Even “You look pale.”

 

“I-” Sana pauses awkwardly for a moment “It’s been a long day.”

 

“I know what you mean,” says Isak sardonically.

 

Sana chuckles slightly, although she still looks strange. Maybe it’s the expression on her face, or maybe it’s the look in her eyes, but Even suddenly understands.

 

Sana’s _upset_ . Now Even isn’t an expert with handling girls (just look at his relationship with Sonja, for example, they were poster children for codependent dysfunctional relationships), but he knows, somehow, _exactly_ how Sana’s feeling.

 

He’s been in that spot; torn between screaming and crying because everything has suddenly gone to shit and there’s nothing you can do but hold on, and ride it out.

 

“Do you want to stay here and watch movies with us?” asks Even as kindly as he knows how.

 

“Well...” Sana looks torn for a moment, a crease forming between her brows as she hesitates.

 

“C’mon,” says Isak with his little half smirk that always seems to charm everyone, be they male or female, young or old. “We can watch something you like.”

 

“Thanks,” says Sana, with a small smile, as she whips out her phone (presumably to text her mom her whereabouts and tell her not to worry) and settles onto a beanbag chair that Even had gotten on a whim.

 

“Of course,” says Even “What do you want to watch?”

 

As they settle in to watch the movie (“ _Anything_ but romance please,” Sana had requested, and so they settle for a safe syfy action film that may not be very good, but iss very cathartic to make fun of), Even smiles.

 

It's warm in the apartment and both Sana and Isak are incredibly sarcastic and wonderful, and he finds himself glad that they're there.

 

Isak snuggles in closer, his head tucked up under Even's and his arm thrown across his middle casually.

 

The stresses and worries of the day fade away. While he knows they’ll be back soon, and that they'll all have to face reality sooner rather than later, he lets himself enjoy this moment while it lasts.

  
‘ _Yeah,_ ’ he thinks, as he finally relaxes and laughs along with the others about something Sana says. ‘ _We’ll be okay,_ ’

**Author's Note:**

> Tah-dah!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that depressing piece of shit. I am trash, I cry.
> 
> Please feel free to leave constructive criticism if you see any errors, it's literally two in the morning, and any proof reading I've done was probably not very effective lol. 
> 
> Also feel free to let me know what you thought. Was it good? Was it trash? SHould I never write anything ever again and just delete myself from the internet?
> 
> I'm going to regret all this in the morning when I'm coherent, I'm sure.


End file.
